Simple Complexity
by TacoRaven
Summary: The war was over. The Avengers could live 'normal' lives until the world needed them again. But how simple can normal be for such a team?
1. Assumed Simplicity

A/N: Huzzah, a fic that will grow other chapters! Once again, angsty. I'll do my best not to disappoint, though~ Rated M for angst, other stuff later down the road, and...safety, I guess. I don't trust my mind to stay kid-friendly, so neither should you. ;) -Taco

* * *

Thor's charge had been simple, in theory. Bring Loki back to Asgard to face justice. He had made a promise to himself, too, to return and tell his fellow Avengers of Loki's fate. He felt duty-bound to both his charge and his promise.

If only the simplicity stayed once the words became actions, he may not have struggled comprehending the events. By duty, he delivered Loki – his _brother_ – into custody. He had stayed through the trial, but had been forbidden to testify at all. Something about biases. And so he stayed silent while Loki was sentenced to be bound, powerless, until Ragnarok. He watched with unreadable eyes as the god he had spent a lifetime calling a brother was taken away to serve his sentence.

_He watched as his brother was taken away from him._ He retreated to his room to prepare for his return to Midgard. He had refused to speak with anyone, choosing instead to focus on keeping his thoughts inward and his expression unreadable.

He came undone as soon as his door was shut, if only for that moment. His brother. Liesmith. Destroyer of worlds. Silvertongue. Thousands dead. Loki responsible. His brother. Guilty.

Asgard had mourned for Loki once. But that mourning was over, now, for the rest of the gods and their allies. Thor knew this. He knew the words, the customs. Loki was alive, so there was no room for mourning. Loki had betrayed all of them, making deals with the Chitauri. It was not proper to mourn traitors.

Thor knew this. He told himself this, over and over. And yet, they were still just words to him. He could not find the feelings – no, the convicted belief – to make them more than words he was expected to follow, as the prince of Asgard.

The words were simple. Not being allowed to mourn his brother was not. He could never care for the lack of shared blood between him and the other god. They were raised as brothers. Played as brothers. Fought as brothers. We they found the truth, Thor had hoped Loki, the Liesmith himself, could understand how a lie could be lied enough to become a truth. But Loki did not share Thor's aspirations.

Wincing in realization, Thor allowed that he would have to learn to accept the way thing were. And so he steeled himself to return to his fellow Avengers and relay the news to them.

* * *

Thor had received a warm welcome. He was pleased to find Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and Steve Rodgers now living in Stark Tower.

"My friends," Thor said once they were in the tower's lobby, "I have new of Loki's trial and conviction."

Tony opened his mouth, but Steve noticed the pain on Thor's eyes and spoke first. "If you want to wit until we're all here, you can," he said, adding, "So you only have to go through it once," when he saw the look on Tony and Bruce's face.

Thor considered a moment, making sure his composure was still in place, and then simply nodded.

"Hey, look big guy," Tony offered, "We're still reconstructing the damage to the tower, but if you want to stay here, there are plenty of structurally sound rooms for you to choose from."

Steve seems to pause a bit. Generous offers with no strings attached from Tony startled him every time. Clint had joked he was continuing to adjust to this time period rather well, new people and everything. Steve had offered a noncommittal laugh, but had silently wondered if he would ever view Tony as benevolent. If flying a nuclear missile into space didn't count as generous, could anything?

Steve had been lost in his own thoughts long enough for Tony to have started walking off with Thor. Bruce placed a gentle hand on Steve's shoulder, bring the man back to the rest of the world. Steve offered a grunt of thanks, and Bruce returned it with a weak smile that didn't even try to reach his eyes.

The shift in power had been strange for Steve. He wasn't convinced Tony was the best choice for leader of the Avengers, but Tony had secured the spot almost by accident. Steve tried not to hold any resentment, but he knew Tony knew.

If that was going to be a problem, that could be a problem later, though. Until then, they had clean-up to do.

* * *

Once Thor had become acquainted with his room, Tony suggested that he "shed the armor and wear Earth clothes" for a while.

"But what ever for?" Thor had asked, perplexed.

"Well," Tony said, "Aliens just destroyed a good chunk of this city, and the people are angry. The aliens are all dead, and enough of them are blaming the Avengers that it may be dangerous. And before you go on about how they couldn't kill a god, I don't think that will stop them from trying. And any violence, even in self-defense, would be more than a bad idea right now."

Thor stood motionless for a moment, letting Tony's words sink in. "But...we saved them.." Thor managed before the words sunk in enough to damage, "We saved their lives, their city, and brought the aliens down. Surely, they know this!"

Tony shook his head, more in sadness than disagreement, "Some of them do. Hell, most of them do. But not enough of them that we're not already having problems, and not even two weeks have passed."

"So how do we remedy this?" Thor asked, forcing some hope in with his inquiry.

"Time. Press conferences. Making sure I'm the only one who the press and the people can find outside our Avenger's identity," Tony replied, his cadence marking a practiced speech that would never flow naturally from his lips.

Thor nodded, attempting to make just one moment truly simple. A small part of him realized his simplicity rested on a nod, but that would have to do. He didn't want Tony to know he was so badly shaken by his broth – by _Loki's_ – sentencing.

"I'll get you some civilian clothes, big guy," Tony offered, putting a hand on Thor's bicep, "It won't take long. Feel free to do whatever until then."

"Thank you, Anthony Stark," Thor said, "for your hospitality and generosity." Tony hid a frown, his conscious thought finally recognizing how strained the god was.

"If you need anything, just tell JARVIS," Tony instructed, turning to walk out, "He'll hear you, don't worry about that."

Thor nodded again, getting comfortable with the motion. He had almost missed Tony sigh as the door shut.

Thor sat down on his bed, staring at the mirror across the room. He focused on the image his reflection presented him, fighting down the turbulent emotions that threatened t make him come undone, this time possibly for longer than a moment.

_'Yes,' _Thor thought to himself, _'This is what is, and what will be. I will tell them Loki's sentence, and then I will dress...as appropriate...and help fix the damage my brother has brought upon this city. If I cannot mourn my brother according to tradition, then I will honor his memory by helping restore this city.'_

* * *

A/N: Okay. Wow. This is getting off to a slower start than the rest of the chapters are promising. I had to set up some basic things before I got the story rolling a bit. I didn't want any of you (or me, for that matter..) to get later in the fic and go, "Where did THAT plot point come from?!"

Please don't lose faith it'll get good! But, uh, until then...if y'all have any comments, questions, or whatever, reviews are welcome! I don't bite, promise! 3, Taco~


	2. Mourning Routine

A/N: Will y'all look at that. I've gotten around to updating! Same ratings warning apply every chapter. -Taco

* * *

It had been a mere six days since Thor had arrived at Stark Tower. Six days of being near-idle. It had felt like longer, at times. But there were moments – often fleeting – which felt like he'd just arrived.

One such moment came over breakfast, where he caught himself laughing at Stark's antics of teaching Steve how to operate a cell phone. Another came while sparring with the super soldier, and all sense of the past and future had dissolved.

He cherished those moments, even if only in his own mind. He was coming to accept that, given the circumstances, they would be just that moments.

Finally, on the sixth day, the team was assembled in full. Director Fury and Thor were the only two standing up when the meeting begun. The rest looked at him with mixed emotions in their eyes, ranging from curiosity to contempt. Silently reminding himself that the contempt was not for him, he began.

"I am sure you all are wondering as to Loki's fate on Asgard," he began, his voice weaker than he had intended. He saw everyone's eyes steel to patient urgency, and continued, his voice stronger, "Loki has been found guilty of high treason, murder, and numerous other war crimes, as well as gross safety violations for both Asgard and Midgard. He has been sentenced to be bound, powerless, with venom dripping onto his forehead until the end of times."

There was a moment of silence in the room when Thor finished speaking. To process the information, he knew, not to mourn for Loki. None of them had loved Loki. This he also knew. As they digested the information, he braced himself for whatever they would say.

"Venom?" Director Fury was the first to speak.

"Yes," Thor nodded, "Corrosive and highly painful."

"Did you have any say in his punishment?" Clint asked.

"I was not permitted to partake in the trial due to my intimate involvement both with the accused and the war. The All-Father wanted as unbiased of a trial as possible," Thor explained, mindful to keep his voice flat.

"Bound how?" Bruce asked, "I mean, can he escape at all?"

Thor shook his head, "He has no chance of escape. Without his powers, he is no stronger than a mortal of his same body composition. He is bound at his abdomen, legs, and wrists."

Stark made little attempt to hide his feelings about how the restraints, letting out a low whistle before asking, "And what if the world doesn't end? How long is he there for?"

"Until time ends," Thor replied, the smallest note of frustration lacing his voice.

Steve stood up at that point, looking at Thor with what Thor thought was pity. "I think that's enough about this for one meeting," he offered, clapping Thor on the shoulder.

"Yeah," Stark chimed, "World's safe, guilty are punished, time to rebuild."

It didn't take long for the room to clear out. Thor was not the last to leave, as he had hoped to avoid further questioning. However, Clint stopped him at the elevator.

"What are you going to do now?" Clint asked.

Again, something so seeming simple. Thor might have resented simplicity had he not been taught to understand the dualistic nature of everything. With the simple, the complex.

"I will stay here, pose as a mortal as per Mister Stark's suggestion, and help rebuild the city," Thor said.

Simple.

* * *

The first day Thor helped with rebuilding the city, he had worn carpenter jeans and a red t-shirt, telling people his name was Thomas when he was asked. Stark had helped with the clothes, and Steve had helped with the name.

His strength made him the ideal help for clearing debris. He couldn't operate any of the heavy equipment, but he could haul loads of rubble into collection bins. The man in charge of the site he was working had been impressed, and told him to come back as often as he wanted. When Thor agreed to be back every day for as long as he was needed, the man have him a tool belt in appreciation. While Thor was uncertain why tools were needed for clearing, he showed great thanks to the man nonetheless.

If Thor was to be entirely truthful, he was thankful to no longer be idle. The reality of the loss of his brother and the relief it brought so many across the worlds pained him, and the more he could do the less such a reality could sink in to the marrow of his bones.

He worked until the night had started to fall, when most of the sites that were still being cleared shut down until the dawn of the next day.

He had chosen to walk back to the tower, both for some solitude and because he had a sneaking suspicion that Stark's offer to "give him a lift back" would ultimately accumulate in _not_ helping him stay as unnoticed as possible.

It was on his walk back he first saw it.

A concrete-and-wood wall, plastered with photos and hand-written signs. There were candles, some burning, some burnt out, and some unlit. Curious, he stopped to look at it.

The hand-wirtten signs struck him first. All of the messages were in some sort of remembrance. And then he connected the messages to the pictures.

_This is a wall full of their mourning sentiments,_ he thought, _These people have lost more than I ever could have._

He was not sure how long he had been standing there, but he nearly startled when a voice beside him asked, "Do you have someone on the wall?"

Thor looked to his right, where the voice came from, and found himself looking down. There was a small girl, no older than eleven.

"I do not," Thor found himself saying.

"That's my brother," the girl said, pointing to a picture of a smiling teenager, "Mom says we were lucky they found his body so we could have a proper funeral for him."

Her voice struck Thor more than her words. He wondered how many times she had practiced such a statement to keep both the words and the tone so simple.

Before Thor could reply, a rumble of thunder in the distance caused them both to turn and jump.

"I hope the rain doesn't ruin his picture," the little girl said, her voice on the verge of quaking.

Pity. Thor had not had room for pity in as long as he cared to remember. But as times change, so do people. And if people can change, so can the gods themselves.

Thor scanned the wall, and found that a wooden beam about seven feet up spanned the entire length of the memorial. He then scanned the nearby debris piles – _Seriously, is there anywhere in this city where they have moved out the debris?_ He thought – and saw enough materials to do something.

"Stay here a moment," he told her as he walked away. Her eyes wide with a mix of fear and wonder, she stayed put.

Thor returned with enough metal pleated sheets to span the length of the memorial and two support beams that rose about six and a half feet from the ground.

"What are you doing with those?" the girl asked, backing up a little as the beams were swung around.

Thor smiled, "If you have the time," he said, "Watch."

The girl had not had the time to stay for the entire process, but she did go home and get her parents so all three of them could watch the stranger work.

Thor had used the debris to construct a makeshift shelter. The pleated metal sheets connected tot he wall and the support beams. The metal slanted down a bit, just enough to keep any rain that would come off the pictures and messages.

The parents had cried. The mother had hugged Thor while the father just stood there and hugged his daughter.

"Thank you," the mother had said, "This means the world to us right now."

"You are welcome," was all Thor had managed.

The next morning, Thor mentioned the incident to Steve, Stark, Bruce, and Natasha over breakfast. He had brought it up causally, hoping it was not something that would bring attention to him and put his safety and the safety of his fellow Avengers at risk.

They all stared at for a moment, their expressions unreadable.

"Thor," Natasha started, "that is beautiful."

Stark made a small choking noise into his coffee, and the team glared at him. "What? I'm not allowed to choke on my coffee?"

"What, I'm not allowed to call things beautiful?" Natasha retorted, her voice somewhere between ice and amusement.

"Hey, knock it off," Steve told them, "You can banter later. Thor, that's brilliant."

"But it is not a security hazard?" Thor's statement came out as a question.

"Not at all," Stark said, "Although you've given me an idea."

"I hope it's a good idea," Banner muttered. Steve tried to shoot the scientist a warning look, but could barely keep himself from chuckling.

"A donation," Stark said, setting his coffee down, "from Stark Industries to the city of New York."

Clint came down the stairs just in time to hear that. He rolled his eyes, "Do you really think this city needs money? It needs manpower."

"Not money," Stark said, "Well, not just money. I have a building just outside of the war zone that is presently unused. Fix it up a bit, make sure everything's in working order, and turn it into an indoor memorial."

Bruce nodded, "And then what?"

"Put up blank walls throughout the building. Keep the doors open and let people post pictures, words. Maybe even have something where they can record their messages to the ones they lost."

"Tony," Steve said, "That's brilliant."

Bruce shook his head, smiling softly. The team knew in that moment Stark would never let Steve forget he said that.

"Of course it is, it's my idea," Tony pouted.

"It's Thor's inspiration," Natasha quiped.

Before they could get the banter rolling, Pepper stepped in the room. Everyone turned to face her.

"That's the perfect statement for your press conference at eleven thirty," Pepper said, locking eyes with Stark.

"Excuse me, my what now?" Stark asked, genuine confusion apparent.

"Your press conference," she repeated.

"What's it about?" Steve asked. Stark and Pepper looked at him.

"Yeah," said Stark, "What's it about?"

Pepper sighed, "I am not entirely sure, but it's not on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s request." Her tone bordered on dangerous. Something was wrong.

Stark rolled his eyes, standing up, "Fine, fine. I'll be ready for it. No notes, seriously?"

"Seriously," said Pepper, "Now get going."

Stark walked out of the room, everyone's gazes following him as he left. Pepper noticed his abandoned cup of coffee and went to pick it up.

"Stark, this isn't coffee! This is Kool-Aid!" Clint called after him, beating Pepper to the cup.

Clint's comment drew laughter from the team and Pepper.

"Grape Kool-Aid," Bruce shook his head, "Maybe he's one of those people sugar does more for than caffeine."

Pepper laughed again before adding, "It wouldn't surprise me. Now, if you all would excuse me, I have to make sure he's on time," before flashing one more smile at them and walking out of the room.

"Maybe," Natasha shrugged, turning back to Thor, "But regardless of Mister Stark's metabolism, you did good."

"You did better than good," Bruce corrected, "You helped. And you effected change."

Thor looked caught between distance and presence when he responded with a simple, "Thank you."

"Back in my day, people like you were called heroes," Steve added. Thor looked at him, eyes blank but the tilt of his head indicating confusion, so Steve added, "Heroes were the ones who fought and the ones who rebuilt alike."

"Ah," Thor nodded, "Back in Asgard, we have no need for heroes."

"Well, there is plenty of room for heroes here," Steve smiled, "If you want to stay for a bit, you can."

It was Thor's turn to clap Steve on the shoulder. "Thank you, my friend, I believe I shall."

Natasha glanced over at Clint, who glanced at the clock.

"I hate to run, but Natasha and I have meetings at S.H.I.E.L.D. Downtown most of the day," Clint explained.

Steve nodded at them, "Alright, you two. Take care of yourselves. And try to see if you can glance what's going on that had Pepper so tense."

The spies nodded before leaving. If it hadn't been for Clint's grip being just a little too tight on his bag, Steve would have thought the two weren't worried.

Bruce shook his head before saying, "I should get working. Enjoy your day, you two."

"I'm sure we'll see each other over dinner. Or breakfast tomorrow," Steve offered, nodding to Bruce.

"I don't doubt it," Bruce said, starting out of the room, "Oh, and Thor. Good job buddy," he added before disappearing from sight.

Thor shook his head solemnly. He picked up Stark's cup of Kool-Aid, examining it. He sniffed it, and made a face.

"This cannot possible be superior to coffee," Thor observed, setting the cup back down.

Steve laughed, "I don't think it is, but when has that ever stopped Tony from doing what he wants?"

"I suppose you have a point," Thor conceded, an ounce of mirth returning to his eyes.

Moments. Fleeting moments. There one was again. This one ended with Steve's next statement.

"You seem to be taking all of this rather well," Steve told Thor.

"I have no choice," Thor explained, as if those four words explained everything. He had hoped they did.

"No choice?" Steve asked. Thor sighed.

"In Asgard,we mourned Loki when he thought him dead. Now that he is alive and guilty, there is supposed to be no room for mourning. No one else lost a brother to that trial. But many people lost someone to my brother. And so where I cannot properly mourn my brother, I can help others mourn. And perhaps one day my need to mourn will not be as great," Thor went on, surprising himself a little with both how much he had said and how candid he had been able to be about his situation.

Steve nodded, figuring that asking for any more details would not help Thor. Instead, he offered, "You did a wonderful thing last night."

"Thank you, Steve," Thor replied, the mirth managing to remain in his eyes.

_Perhaps not all has been lost, _Thor thought, _Or perhaps things have been lost so that new things may be gained._

The day passed relatively quickly for Thor. The man in charge of the site's debris clearing was thrilled Thor returned.

Several more collection containers of debris had been hauled away, no small part in thanks to Thor. The site closed down at sundown again, and Thor took a different way back to the tower.

He passed another wall that night, and instead of staring at the messages, he found the appropriate debris from surrounding piles to salvage in order to make a protective covering.

This time, it did not take him long. Within a half-hour, the wall was protected from the elements.

Thor came across two more walls on his route back that night, and covered them respectively. By the time he was making a shelter for the third wall, people had begun to take notice. Thor could hear them murmur as they passed, although he could not make out what they were saying to one another.

When Thor made it back to the tower, he entered the common room to see Steve, Clint, Natasha, Pepper, and Bruce gathered in front of the television. They had turned on the news, something Thor had not seen them do in over a week.

And then Thor saw what the segment was on.

People all over the city had caught wind of the shelters Thor had been building for the memorials, and had organized teams to work through the night to make coverings for _all_ of the memorial walls.

The person being interviewed was talking about how meaningful protecting the walls were. Something about how it wasn't just protecting the walls, it was protecting the memories of the loved ones they had lost.

Everyone turned to Thor, but Natasha spoke first, "You did more than good."

At a loss for words, Thor nodded.

The news segment cut to a live broadcast of the press conference Stark was at.

"Has he really been there for over seven hours?" Steve asked.

No one answered. The woman on the screen explained it for them.

"Live from an undisclosed location, billionaire Anthony "Tony" Stark has been facing questions about last month's attacks on New York from news and media outlets all over the world. We just got permission to broadcast live."

The scene cut to Stark, cameras flashing almost constantly and more microphones than could be counted at a glance shoved in his face. Stark's face was gleaning with sweat.

"Hasn't there already been several conferences about this?" Clint asked.

"Yeah," Natasha said.

"I wonder what they could possibly have successfully called a press conference this big over," Bruce wondered aloud.

"Are you sure that's something we really want to find-" Steve started, but was cut off by one question on the television that resounded louder than the other questions.

"Mister Stark," the reported asked, "I have financial reports here that Stark Industries aided Loki in his research to bring the alien army here as a publicity stunt. What do you have to say about them?"

"Can I, uh, see those reports?" Stark asked, floored by the accusation.

As the reported handed over a copy of the reports, making sure the cameras caught the multiple copies she had, back at the tower all that could be heard was Pepper's, "Well, shit."

A/N: So I take forever to update and leave y'all with a cliff hanger. Don't hate me! Also, this would up being longer than I had thought it would be. I hope it wasn't too long or something strange like that.


	3. Protecting the Truth

A/N: Lazy author doubles as uninspired author. But I've fixed both, and here...have chapter three as a present!

It had been an intense question-and-answer session for Tony Stark. From the time he had been handed the "report" until the time his name and company were cleared totaled four hours, twenty-three minutes, and seventeen seconds. He had been keeping track, if for no other reason than he needed **something** to keep his mind occupied.

It was Pepper who saved the Avengers from staying under fire, if he was to be completely honest with himself. She had gone back through the files, printed a full report, also uploading them to her own personal PDA. She had gained clearance to the press conference, and handed everything to him.

"_For someone who doesn't like being handed things,I think I can make an exception for this," Tony had quipped. It had drawn some near-nervous laughter, but the look in Pepper's eyes had begged him to keep it together._

He'd kept it together. He and Pepper had found who had fabricated the reports. He had been told arrests had already been made, but he'd waved whoever had told him off – some kid intern for the _Times_ or something. He wasn't interested in names. Or reasons. He was no stranger to betrayal.

Besides, he had something bigger to worry about than lies. Now he had the truth to worry about.

As he and Pepper had left the conference, their integrity and good name in tact, one of the shouted questions from the flurry of reporters he was pretending to ignore stuck with him.

"_How long do you think you can really protect the identities of your fellow Avengers?"_

No. It wasn't just the truth he had to worry about. That would imply it was simply there, dangling in mid-air or something. He had to worry about **protecting** the truth. At least for now.

He knew there were enough people out there – even this close to the tower – that the fabricated report had only given more 'reason' to dislike the Avengers. They weren't interested in the truth that mattered; they were interested in having someone to blame.

Tony was alone, at that moment he realized exactly what that press conference had done for his image. He was no longer working alone, to the public. He was now the figurehead for the Avengers themselves.

If everyone else's identities were to remain a secret, he would have to stay the figurehead. Which meant being ready for more appearances – hopefully none so jarring as the last day's events – as it was deemed necessary.

As he readied himself for both the public's reactions and his fellow Avenger's reactions, he was mostly glad he was alone.

As he poured himself his third drink, he looked upwards a bit. "Jarv," he said, "Make sure my door stays locked until tomorrow."

Steve had caught Clint in the training room the first time he noticed the archer's concerned look. He wondered why he had not noticed it before, but after several times of studying it without becoming intrusive, he realized it was so well-intertwined with Clint's normal, focused expression that he probably would not have noticed had he not told himself he needed to be aware of "his team."

The two men were cleaning up after dinner the first time Clint had brought it up.

"You've been staring at me for almost three days now," Clint said, failing to keep accusation out of his voice. He had tried, but it came across as if it could have been a very aggressive observation about the weather.

"And you're worried about something, but I don't see you saying anything about that, either," Steve replied, succeeding in keeping accusation from his voice. The archer looked at Steve for a moment, and then looked to the dishes. He was not used to being called out in such a blatant fashion.

Clint was silent for a few minutes before he replied, "Tony's going to become the Avenger's figurehead for the media."

Steve put down the dishes he had been putting away and looked to the other man, "And this worries you...why, exactly?" Steve's own accusations about Tony haunted him for a moment. He knew he wasn't the only one who'd thought Tony wasn't a hero. He knew the man Tony had always presented was not the man Tony was capable of being, though. Steve reminded himself not to hold his breath waiting for Clint's reasoning.

"Tony's not going to be able to handle that," Clint said.

Steve was still formulating a response when Thor came into the room. The two men looked up at the demigod, silent.

"Please, do not allow my presence to stop your conversation," Thor said, apologetic, as he grabbed a few apples from a basket on the counter.

Clint sighed and continued, "Tony could barely handle the press conference earlier this week. How is being the figurehead going to help him?"

Steve shook his head, but Thor spoke first, "Who would you suggest, then, friend Clint?"

Clint and Steve both looked at Thor. Steve reminded himself not to under-estimate Thor's intelligence and powers of observation so readily.

"I...do not know," Clint admitted.

"While I do not believe it is ideal for any of us to have a 'public figurehead' as Tony's dilemma has named him, I believe that – since the position had been created – there is no one better than Tony to fill it," Thor said, nodding to punctuate his statement.

Clint looked at Thor, his expression distant. "We will have to keep an eye on Tony, then," Clint said, "Captain, Thor. Good night."

Steve and Thor watched Clint walk out of the kitchen. They finished putting away the dishes in silence. Steve looked around at the clean kitchen, and then at Thor.

"Thanks," Steve said, "You didn't have to help."

Thor chuckled a bit, "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But regardless, two get the job done faster than one, most of the time."

Steve nodded, a smile creeping onto his face briefly before fading. "Hey, Thor?"

"Yes, Steven?"

"You seem to be taking everything so...well. How?"

"What do you mean?" Thor sat on one of the bar chairs.

"Well...your brother's crimes and imprisonment, spending so much time away from Asgard, adjusting to life with a species that isn't even...I'm sorry, I'm rambling."

"Steven," Thor started, "It is alright. As for how...I do not see things the way people here seem to see things."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"When I was young, my father taught me about the paradox of simple complexity. Are you familiar?"

"It seems like I should be, but I'm not quite sure," Steve admitted, sitting on the stool two down from Thor, leaving some space between the men.

"It goes, 'If something is simple, it must also be complex if it is to be a whole thing.' At least, I believe that is how it would be put here," Thor explained.

Steve thought of it for a moment, and then replied, "And then complex thing would also have to be simple."

"Exactly," Thor smiled. "It's all how you see it. It may not help with the pain or the emotions that come with any moment, but it can help you carry on."

Steve gave a half-nod before turning to face Thor. "It makes sense. But Thor...if you need anything, please ask."

"Of course," Thor said, "Thank you, Steven."

"It's no problem, Thor," Steve gave a smile his best try, "Now I'm going to get some sleep. G'night."

"Good night, Steven," Thor said.

Then men walked out in a silence that was comfortable enough to be odd among the tension of the last week.

As Steve lied in his bed and tried to calm his mind enough to sleep, he replayed the conversations in the kitchen.

Clint was worried about Tony. The more Steve thought about it, the more there was reason to worry about Tony. But, he told himself, there's reason to worry about any man who was thrust into a position so potentially volatile.

He was also wondering if he should worry about Thor. _Do non-humans even deal with stress like humans?_ He asked himself.

He resolved to make it his mission to make sure the rest of the Avengers were as "okay" as they could be. If Tony was going to be the public figurehead, he could work behind the scenes to see that nobody cracked beyond repair.

He made a mental note to check in with Natasha and Bruce as soon as he had the chance.

Something about his silent promise to himself was soothing enough for sleep to overtake him rather suddenly. His last thoughts were alarmingly calm, given the storm he was almost ready to admit was coming.

A/N: Yeahhh...this one was shorter than chapter two. Hope it didn't disappoint! I'll try to be less lazy from here on out.


	4. The State of Our Bonds

A/N: The 2011 NaNoWriMo forums, "Best of Your Worst Notes" thread defined "pulling a Hemmingway" as: 'Write drunk. Edit slightly less drunk.' If there is no other reason this story so far deserves the M rating, it's because I am almost-apologizing for writing this drunk on what I currently believe is a dare from my best friend. She's going to edit it sober. On the, uh, plus side, y'all get two chapters in a week!

* * *

Steve had almost forgotten that he had requested that Jarvis wake him at 6:15 every morning. His first thought was a half-formed wonder what on earth an alarm clock was doing going off. His second though was in regards to genuine wonder how he could have forgotten the alarm had gone off every morning at the exact same time, with the exact same sounds that jarred him from his slumber.

The last night's sleep had not even dared to resemble restful for him. It had not been filled with nightmares, as some night had since he had been brought out of the ice. Rather, it had been lacking what had been termed REM sleep since he'd gone under. He woke feeling even more exhausted than the night before, but somehow more motivated.

"Jarvis," he called out, "end the wake-up alarm!" Tony's AI complied, and Steve rubbed his eyes, stretching in a fashion that reminded him going back to bed was more appealing on an instinctual level than actually waking up.

Steve shook his head sharply, attempting to speed up the process of mentally waking up.

_'Natasha and Bruce. I **need** to check on them.'_ he reminded himself, rising to his feet.

Sighing as he grabbed his day clothes, he continued to ready himself. _'My team,' _ he thought, _'My responsibility to ensure they don't shake apart with the absence of saving the world.'_ A part of him told him that he was taking on too much; that someone else could help him ensure the cohesiveness of the Avengers post-war, if he could figure who that 'someone' was.

His dismissed the thoughts as he opened the door to his quarters.

Breakfast and dinner had become the two times of day the Avengers could expect to spend together. No one had actually stated this. Rather, it had become routine as soon as Stark tower became the less-than-official home of the Avengers. Breakfast started at eight in the morning. Dinner started at six in the evening.

Over breakfast, Steve attempted to recall when that tradition had started. It may have bothered him that he could not recall the details had it been another set of circumstances. He reminded himself that the details of exactly how they had standing time together were not nearly as important as the fat they _had time together._

_'It's nearly impossible to imagine,'_ he mused while munching a piece of toast with strawberry jam and cream cheese, _'that the six of us are here, alive, eating together twice a day.'_

He found himself about to go over why it was so near-impossible when Natasha cut through the silence.

"I've been given another mission by S.H.I.E.L.D. to start tomorrow morning," she said, her voice unreadable, but still not her normal conversational tone.

The rest of the Avengers barely had time to blink before they heard Clint bark, "Already?"

Natasha looked taken back. "It's been nearly three weeks, and the rest of the world has no shortage of things for spies to do," she said simply.

Clint opened his mouth to argue, but Tony spoke first. "Well be careful, then. The last thing any of us need right now – or, like, ever – is to hear you've been hurt. Or otherwise compromised."

Thor did not miss the guilt that flashed in the assassin's eyes for half of a moment. He deiced against speaking up, as he had accepted Steve needed to feel as though he was managed the emotional well-being of the Avengers and he felt that he had come close to over stepping his boundaries with cutting in on conversations the previous night with Clint.

"I will," Natasha nodded. She avoided looking at Clint, who couldn't stop looking at her. His breakfast abandoned, he spent the rest of the meal fighting the urge to walk out.

It was Bruce who broke the silence a second time.

"So, did they tell you where you'd be going?" he inquired, his tone as light as ever. Natasha flinched at the friendliness in his voice, an echo of something neither of them had wanted to live through, and yet neither of them were close to being able to forget.

"An information-gathering mission in central Europe," she replied, "It should take no more than a week, including travel time through civilian airports."

"Civilian?" Tony sputtered, "All the money they could dream of, and they're making you go through security and customs like every other Tom, Dick, and Harry who hasn't risked their lives for the freedom of this planet?"

Everyone fell silent. Tony had not realized how much his words stung everyone, judging by the incredulous look on his face.

"What?" he asked, "Someone could recognize her, and then what good would her secret identities do?"

Clint inhaled sharply. Thor's lips moved, as if their movement alone could formulate an answer to relieve everyone's worries. Steve scratched his head, barely conscious of the motion as he searched for an answer. Natasha remained silent and next to motionless. Once again, it was Bruce who broke the silence.

"If S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't capable of disguising its agents and protecting them, I would never have joined you guys to find Loki in the first place." Bruce's tone was softer than his observation. Tony failed to suppress a shudder. Natasha looked at him for a brief moment, her eyes conveying a thanks her worlds could not.

"Nat," Clint started before his words failed him. He remained silent for a few moments, before managing, "Don't prove to Bruce that he can be wrong, please?"

Natasha smiled a smile that nearly reached her eyes, "I won't, Clint. I promise." She looked around the table, taking everyone in. "All of you. I promise."

Breakfast had ended in silence. Thor could feel the pressure from everyone's unspoken emotions they believed to remain hidden from display as well. Thor offered to clean the dishes. Steve had attempted to help, but Thor insisted he could handle them. In Thor's polite, familiar words, his eyes flashed Steve a plea to go talk with Natasha.

Steve had followed Natasha down to the lobby in silence. The rest of the Avengers had gone about their own business. Natasha turned around to face Steve.

"Captain Rodgers, why are you-"

"Please, Steve is fine," Steve cut her off, holding up a hand. He had not planned any of what he would say to her, but he decided against taking any time to think about his words in favor of avoiding the risk of her walking off or dismissing him. "Why are you really taking the mission?"

_'Well, that wasn't what I had thought I was going to ask,'_ Steve thought. The only indication his question had caught her off-guard was that her next blink was longer than a standard blink should have been.

"A spy goes where it is requested of her," Natasha responded, her expression returning to unreadable.

"That's a lie," Steve balked at her answer. A bit more bold than he would have preferred to be with a woman, had he been honest with himself. But now was not the time for chivalrous world and gentle intent. Rather, it was the time to ensure his team was safe, comfortable, and still a team.

"Steve, that's not your call to make," Natasha warned, her expression growing colder.

"That might work on people you work for, or people who work for you. But we're Avengers. We are a team. And if you – or anyone else – thinks to lie to me, I'm going to make sure everyone understands that's not going to fly."

Steve's words had come naturally. Almost too naturally. The words were simple. He bit back a laugh, recalling Thor's words from the previous night. The implications of his words were anything but simple. He hoped Natasha was not going to fight his conviction.

"I cannot remain idle while the fate of the Avengers remains a media circus," Natalie said quietly. Her tone had not been a whisper, but it had had a certain softness that almost made Steve regret how firm he had been.

_'No,' _he reminded himself, _'this is not the time for regrets. This is the time for honesty.'_

"So you're leaving to be busy?" Steve asked her, forcing the same type of accusation he'd heard Clint use into his voice. It felt foreign, but not dishonest.

"Effectively," the assassin shrugged, "I'm going to the market, do you want anything?"

Steve sighed, figuring against pushing her any further, "Cinnamon sticks," he requested, "And for you to promise you'll come to me or Thor if you decide it's more than wanting to be busy."

Natasha paused for a moment before asking, "Any particular type of cinnamon sticks, and any time frame for such a request?"

Steve smiled a genuine smile, "The type that smell and taste good. And as much time as either of us have."

Steve ventured back to the kitchen. He had wanted to grab a water bottle, but stopped when he saw Bruce and Thor discussing something quietly over the last three dishes.

Thor turned towards the sound of Steve's footsteps. Steve didn't miss the concerned expression in the demigod's eyes, and quickened his pace.

"Steve..." Thor started, his voice seeming to strain to keep a quiet tone.

Bruce shook his head, "Tony's not handling himself as well as we'd hoped."

"What do you mean?" Steve demanded, looking at the last three dishes: a plate with syrup, an empty juice cup, and a mug about one-quarter full of Tony's grape Kool-Aid.

"He's adding hard liquor to his Kool-Aid," Bruce explained, holding out the mug. Steve sniffed it, his nose reflexively wrinkling at the sharp scent of hard liquor mingling with the artificial grape.

"Well..." Steve started, searching for words that wouldn't cause him – or the other two men -to panic, "before we assume Tony's heading off the deep end, let's first consider this is a man who offered Loki a drink. Can we really expect him to **not** add some liquor to his drinks, especially under stress?"

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before answering, "Maybe regular hard liquor, but this is moonshine, Steve. One-seventy proof. Nothing that has a right to be legal, nonetheless in anyone's morning Kool-Aid."

Steve startled visibly, "How do you know?"

"Even since my...accident...my sense of smell has been sharper than I though a human's nose ever could be," Bruce said matter-of-factly.

"That's amazing! How come no one knows about this?" Steve blurted before he could stop his words.

"Well, it's not exactly something to advertise. I mean, if everyone knew how sharp my sense of smell was, they'd be even more on eggshells. Everyone's already so careful what they say to me and do around me. I've never really been in a hurry to add 'watch everyone check their arm pits' to the list of barely conscious behaviors that the knowledge of my "condition" elicits from people."

Thor laughed at Bruce's explanation. The other two men looked at him questioningly. Thor merely offered a shrug, followed by, "Can neither of you imagine a battle punctuated by such...crude, self-conscious behavior?"

Bruce and Steve both started laughing. Thor started laughing again. They laughed together for the first time since becoming part of the same team.

As their laughter dwindled, the reality of the left-over contents of Tony's mug came back to the foreground.

"How did you wind up doing dishes anyways, Bruce?" Steve asked.

"I could smell the moonshine during breakfast, but figured that wasn't even close to the time to bring it up. And since Thor had offered to do the dishes, I figured coming back after everyone else had left and mentioning it to him was the best idea." Bruce offered his explanation with a non-committal shrug, which Steve was beginning to figure was less for indifference and more Bruce's way of staying as emotionally involved in the world around him as he could manage.

"And I informed Bruce that Clint had been concerned about Tony's ability to handle being the public figurehead for the Avengers," Thor continued.

"You both did good," Steve assured them, both for their comfort and his own. "Now the trick will be figuring out exactly how much of a problem Tony's alcohol consumption is."

"What do you mean?" asked Thor.

"I mean...well..." Steve started, once again searching for words. He mentally cursed himself for not having easier, faster words before continuing. "I mean that we need to figure out how he's handling this, exactly. If he's upping his alcohol consumption because he can't deal with the pressure, or for another reason, or whatever else might be going on."

"We cannot simply speak to him?" Thor questioned, his tone one of genuine confusion.

"Sadly, no," Steve shook his head. Thor looked even more confused, so Steve offered, "Direct confrontation doesn't help most people. If anything, it makes whatever problems they're facing even harder to deal with. People want to think they can handle everything. If other people point out they can't handle something before they can admit that to themselves, they'll just go deeper into denial."

Thor nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor in remembrance of how his words had failed to restore Loki to the brother he and Asgard had loved once.

"Perhaps the human mind and the mind of the gods are not that different. Perhaps you humans are simply more aware of the complexities of the psyche," Thor murmured.

"Simple words," Steve offered. The words drew a soft, sad smile from Thor, who looked up at the other two.

"What shall we do?" Thor asked.

"We watch," said Bruce, "We watch very carefully, but don't intrude. And I'll let Clint know what we talked about in regards to Tony, if that's alright."

"That sounds fine, Bruce," Steve nodded. Each of the men took one of the remaining dishes and loaded it into the dishwasher. Steve found the unspoken unison of their actions reaffirming. As if maybe, just maybe, the team the world knew as the Avengers would survive this.

Natasha had left early the next morning, resulting in the first breakfast the full team had not been present for since Thor's return. Clint had made an off-hand comment about how, even though he understood her need to get back out on the field, it didn't feel right to have found out in such a fashion. Thor had made an effort to keep the mood light, suggesting they all do something together after dinner that night. Bruce had suggested a movie.

They had all agreed. Clint was allowed to pick the movie. He had suggested _Confessions of an Shopaholic_ as a joke, and Tony and Bruce had agreed in unison. The joke was on Clint, and the movie night was set.

The movie night had been enjoyable. Clint had accepted he would never live his choice of movie down, and took everything in stride.

After the movie was over, Tony left first, followed closely by Clint. The two had been joking around, teasing each other so mercilessly that – had the two not been amicable – there would have been reason for concern.

Thor stood up, looking to Steve and Bruce. The other two men rose to their feet as well.

"That would have not been nearly as funny had Clint's suggestion gotten any amount of balking," Bruce quipped, stretching.

"Indeed," yawned Steve, following suit of Bruce's stretches, "Hey, Bruce?"

"Yeah, Steve?"

"If you need anything, let either me or Thor know?"

Bruce's smile rested somewhere between comfortable and welcome as he responded, "Of course. But for now, all I need is some sleep."

"Then go get some sleep, friend Bruce," Thor told him.

As the three said their good-nights, Bruce wandered off to his quarters, leaving Thor and Steve alone.

"We have a lot still to face," Steve noted, leaning against one of the walls, "I feel like the war was just the beginning of our trials as a team."

Thor nodded. "But do not fear, my friend. Trials are a part of survival, both as an individual and as a team."

Steve nodded in return, a grin that was both natural and alien twisting his mouth in to a weary, amused expression. "Can't really argue with that."

Thor laughed once, and put a hand on Steve's bicep, saying, "I do not understand why you would." Only Thor's smile gave any indication that he was teasing the soldier.

Steve laughed once as well. "Good night, Thor," he said as he turned to head out of the room.

"Good night, Steven," Thor responded, heading out with him.

The two parted ways at the elevators. Thor's quarters required him to go down a few levels while Steve's quarters required he go up a few levels.

Thor's elevator arrived first. As the demigod disappeared from view, Steve dismissed the notion that Thor had been the first person – no, being – to touch him like that since well before his plane went down. Just as quickly, he dismissed that thought and wished for sleep to be kinder to him that night.

Down in his lab, Tony had 'taken a break' from his latest project to have a "few" drinks. Jarvis had advised him to cut himself off, so he had muted the AI.

In his quarters, Clint asked the AI how Tony had been doing. Jarvis had told the archer all Tony had permitted to be broadcast.

Jarvis had started recounting Tony's behavior after the movie with an apology in regards to lack of sufficient information. Clint had requested that Jarvis stop before the AI was half-way done. He had heard more than enough for his own needs.

Clint made a silent vow to speak with Tony in the morning.

Bruce did not know he was the last one awake in the tower. As sleep found him, his last coherent though was a reminder to himself to talk to Clint about how they planned on monitoring Tony.

A/N: Oh, look! A longer one! I hope you liked it. And I hope my editor covered any blatant mistakes. :p

Editor's Note: I tried; really I did, but sleepy editor is...well...sleepy. I'll pass out virtual cookies to anyone who finds any mistakes. :D


	5. Starting Thoughts

A/N: Hey y'all! I'm sober this time, promise! I both had hoped to update sooner, but hadn't expected to update this soon. Confusing, yes, but I'll explain after the chapter. Yes, it's on the shorter side. I hope not to disappoint!

Also, y'all...because this won't mesh with the end A/N, question: Romance? Yes? No? Let me know, please~

* * *

If Clint had ever asked anyone what interpersonal skills he lacked, they probably would have told him 'the general inability to be tactful in his approach of delicate matters,' followed closely by 'not knowing when to quit.'

At least, that's what he told himself as he sat in silence in the same room the team had had the movie night in. Nothing was on the screen.

He had tried to talk with Tony about his concerns. About how he believed Tony's becoming the public figurehead was, while necessary, poorly executed. About how Tony needed to put the alcohol down, or at least ease up on it. At least, that was what he had wanted to talk about.

He hadn't thought of the actual words, once he was able to speak with Tony. He vaguely remembered saying something along the lines of, "You need to cut this out, Stark."

The conversation only went downhill from there. It had ended with the men yelling at each other, and Tony banning Clint from the labs.

* * *

Pepper found Clint some time later, still staring at the blank screen.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Do you have some ability to just know when things go wrong and where?" Clint responded. He really didn't want to talk about what had happened. Not at that moment, and definitely not with the woman he thought Tony to be in a relationship with.

"I don't think anyone survives at Stark Industries without being able to know when something's gone wrong before it spirals out of control," Pepper smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I wish I could tell you that you're not too late for that," Clint sighed.

* * *

Clint wound up telling Pepper everything he knew. He wasn't sure how the woman had coaxed it out of him. Hell, he wasn't even sure Pepper **had** coaxed it out of him.

Pepper wasn't upset, exactly. Worried, frustrated, and already planning three steps ahead where Clint thought he was struggling to even get footing. But not upset.

Clint reminded himself that Pepper was stronger than she looked. Sure, she wasn't a member of the Avengers. But still, he doubted the Avengers would exist without her.

_No,_ he reminded himself, _Tony wouldn't exist without her. And the Avengers wouldn't exist without Tony._

* * *

Bruce ran into Thor in the elevator. Both of them were surprised – Thor that he had managed to make unplanned contact in such a large tower, Bruce that Thor used elevators when he wasn't following someone.

"Have you spoken with Clint about Tony yet?" Thor asked as the doors closed.

"Not yet," Bruce shook his head, "I haven't even seen him since Breakfast."

Thor nodded, and then his expression shifted. Bruce could tell Thor had just had some sort of revelation when Thor spoke again.

"Jarvis, what is the current location of Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton?"

"At present, he is in the dining room," the AI responded.

"Thank you," Thor replied, pressing the corresponding floor button.

Bruce studied the demigod for a moment, making the mental note that Thor's intelligence should not be underestimated.

* * *

As Bruce and Thor exited the elevator, their eyes came to rest on Clint, who was sitting at the table alone and silent. An unspoken alarm passed between the two as they made their way over to the table. The tension around the archer was almost tangible.

"Well, someone's early for dinner," Bruce joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Clint attempted a smile, but it came across more as a grimace.

"I...wasn't really up for anything," Clint shrugged.

"What happened?" Thor asked, his tone managing a softness that took away from the question's bluntness.

Clint looked up at the other two, his expression betraying his unwillingness to talk. "I tried to talk to Tony about my concerns."

Bruce's eyes widened just a little, the only mark that he could see where this was headed. "And how did that go?"

"Well, I've been banned from the lab, and I can see why Steve wasn't fond of getting into a shouting match with the man," Clint said, hoping that would be enough of an answer.

Thor nodded. Bruce shook his head. Clint knew the conflicting gestures meant the same thing: A silent resignation that the situation was what it was, and they couldn't change it right now. Clint felt a twinge of guilt that he couldn't fully understand.

"At least you tried, which is more than the rest of us have done," Bruce offered.

"I believe the question now is, where do we go from here?" Thor asked.

"We go very carefully," Steve said as he entered the room. The other three blinked in surprise. "Jarvis suggested I join you," was all the explanation he offered.

"What do you mean, both of you?" Clint sounded almost affronted.

"We're all worried about Tony," Bruce started, "but seeing that direct confrontation won't work, we need to figure out how to keep him safe from himself while still remaining safe ourselves."

"I just don't see why we're all taking this so hard," Clint shook his head, "Not his drinking. I mean Tony being the public figurehead. Thor was right the other night – there is no one better for the position."

Bruce glanced over at Steve, silently asking if he had missed something. Steve gave a subtle nod. Bruce gave an even more subtle shrug, and pressed on, "Perhaps it's because the end of that press conference illustrated that we're in even more danger than we had originally thought," the scientist offered, scanning his team mates' faces.

"_How long do you think you can really protect the identities of your fellow Avengers?" _ The question replayed through all of their minds. If they had to pinpoint it, that was the moment Tony was secured the spotlight.

"Do you truly believe that having your...our...identities and/or whereabouts revealed would be as much of a security risk as we have been saying it would be?" Thor broke the silence. His tone lacked the sense of conviction the demigod's words normally held.

"Yes," Steve replied, his tone picking up the conviction Thor's seemed to have lost, "And not just because of those who blame us for the attacks. Yes, those individuals and groups would be the biggest security threat. However, those who think us heroes could pose a problem as well."

"How so?" Thor inquired, perplexed.

"We'd never get a moment's privacy again," Bruce shook his head. The other three turned towards him, the gravity of his statement hitting all three of them differently.

"I can only imagine an army of fangirls and fanboys storming the tower, and then starting international search parties if they wouldn't find us here." It was Clint's turn to shake his head.

Bruce laughed first. Then Thor. Then Steve. Clint couldn't help but laugh, too. It started as almost a nervous titter, but quickly gained force until all four of them were howling with laughter, making semi-coherent jokes about hero-worshipers and fan service.

As the laughter died down, Bruce managed, "The thing is, there is no security system in the world that could hold off the fans."

"Excuse me, sir, but I will have you know that I am more than capable of locking the doors," Jarvis cut in.

The laughter started up again, stronger this time.

* * *

Ultimately, the four of them had worked out a plan for monitoring Tony. They had recruited Jarvis in their plan. The AI had been more than happy to comply.

Jarvis was to alert any of the four of them if Tony started to drink to the point where the AI would suggest he stop. No alerting if Tony was in earshot.

Thor and Bruce would be in charge of more casual interactions. Clint would talk to Pepper about an intervention. Steve would make sure no one bit off more than they could chew.

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was something to start from.

* * *

Dinner had gone relatively smoothly. Tony was silent throughout most of the meal, apparently still upset with Clint.

Pepper had said she would take care of the dishes. Clint offered to help her, but she shooed him away.

Clint had gone back in after everyone cleared out, telling Steve he was going to talk to Pepper then, dishes or not.

Steve had wished him luck and given him the best smile he could manage.

* * *

Thor had stumbled across Steve in one of the various areas that functioned as a study. It was late, some time past eleven-thirty at night.

"What are you still doing awake at this hour, Steven?" Thor asked, sitting on the couch across from the super soldier.

"Can't sleep yet. Yourself?"

"I do not require as much sleep as mortals do."

"Better reason than mine," Steve stretched, a yawn overtaking him involuntarily.

"I believe it is my turn to ask you as you have asked me twice. How do you deal with everything so well?"

Steve blinked. Thor's eyes showed a mix of demand and concern as they met his.

"I don't really have any other choice, do I?" Steve's question was more of a statement.

Thor knew it was rhetorical, but asked anyways, "What do you mean? Are there not always choices available?"

Steve sighed, rubbing his temple a bit. "I guess there are other choices. But none that I make available for myself."

Thor nodded, the now all-too-familiar gesture borderlining on out of place. "I suppose. But is that not how you risk blinding yourself to what could be out there?"

Steve looked taken back a bit. The two sat in silence for a few moments before Thor spoke.

"I am sorry, Steven. I do not mean to pry unnecessarily."

"No, no," Steve said, "It's alright. Someone had to ask that question."

"But do you feel that you have to answer?"

"I know there is a lot out there. Some of it may be better, some of it may be worse. But I don't feel right focusing on my own comfort before I know that everyone else is alright."

The two sat in silence again, Thor studying Steve and Steve studying Thor.

"Let me know if there is anything I can do to assist you, Steven."

Steve gave a weak smile, but it was the most sincere smile he'd given in a few days. "Just promise me you're as alright as you appear."

"I assure you, if that changes, I will let you know," Thor offered a smile in return to reassure the man.

"Thank you, Thor."

"Thank you, Steven, for your service to this team."

Steve tried to reply, but only yawned.

"You may want to get some rest," Thor suggested, helping Steve stand.

"Yeah. It's about time," Steve stifled another yawn.

The two walked to the elevator in another comfortable silence.

* * *

This time, Steve's elevator arrived first. Thor placed his hand on Steve's shoulder as they waited for the doors to open.

"Be well, my friend," Thor said.

"I will. You, too," Steve replied as the doors opened. He could feel Thor watching him go. When the doors close, Steve let out a sigh as he propped himself up against the elevator walls.

"When did I get so tired?" he asked himself, "And when did I get tired enough that just the hand of another man...god...was as much reassurance as hugs used to be?"

Steve laughed for the second time that day, only this time the laugh had a hallow quality to it.

* * *

As Thor waited for his elevator, he found himself nearly mimicking Bruce's head shake.

"There is still much work to be done, both for the city and for this team," he said to himself.

* * *

A/N: Okay, maybe not that much shorter. Whoops? But anywho, I'm not normally one for posting anything about my offline life, but this is actually something really, really important to me. (And very relevant fr me right now.)

If you or anyone you know is either considering suicide, or is showing the red flags, please get help. Let someone know. There comes a time when it's too late to help someone, and being left behind sucks.

I'll be fine given time. But any hope of a schedule for writing's gone to the wayside as I deal with this.


	6. Breaking Bindings

A/N: Well...I've survived the suicide of someone who was family minus the blood relations to me. I survived hurricane Sandy. Time to get the next chapter out!

Oh, and I finally fixed the summary and genres! :D

Time to pick up the pace, y'all! -Taco

* * *

The next morning, everyone had waited to start breakfast until Tony joined them. Tony had been showing later and later, so they had expected to wait, at least for a little while.

They attempted idle chit-chat, just enough to stop silence from creeping in, but not so much as to allow anyone to express what they felt better left unspoken.

Clint pokes the pancakes with his finger. Steve was about to say something about that, but Clint offered, "They've gotten cold."

"Have we really been waiting for him that long?" Bruce asked, checking his watch, "Hmn. Seems we have."

The anxious air that had passed as barely noticeable before intensified.

_I could touch the emotions as if they tangible,_ Thor thought while attempting to figure what to say.

"Jarvis, where is Tony?" Steve asked the ceiling.

Silence.

Steve waited just under a minute, then repeated, "Jarvis? Where is Tony?"

Silence.

"Uh, guys," Bruce started. The other three looked at him, silently pleading not to start panicking. Bruce cleared his throat, "I think I can get us into his lab."

Everybody stood up. Bruce understood he was to lead, just for a little while.

Thor exchanged a quick glance with Steve as they filed out of the room. Steve just shook his head.

* * *

Bruce had, indeed, managed to get into the lab. He'd been prepared to put quite a bit of effort into doing so. Everyone was surprised when the door swung open when Bruce touched it.

"Did the door usually open that way?" Clint asked.

"Not without at least two clearances, depending on how paranoid Tony was about whatever project he had going on," Bruce said, anxiety creeping into his tone.

"Let's look around," Steve suggested, effectively herding the others into the lab.

Clint started on the far side of the lab, almost immediately finding Tony's collection of empty liquor bottles.

Bruce and Steve started at opposing corners, leafing through notebooks, papers, and anything else Tony had left out.

Thor shuffled around, a bit bewildered by the technology. He had seen advanced technology before, but nothing quite like what the lab held.

"This was bad," Clint noted, starting to collect the empty bottles into a pile.

"Worse than I though,t hat's for sure," Steve called, mentally kicking himself for not being able to move faster.

"Anyone find anything?" Bruce asked, more for appearances than hopes of an answer.

Once again, the four met each other with silence.

* * *

It was Thor who had managed to find something first. He had heard one of the computers humming with electrical current, despite appearing off. He shook it gently, and it had sprung to life.

Initially, the four had stood, frozen, hoping nothing was about to self-destruct.

"Sirs!" Jarvis' voice rang out, "Thank goodness you're reactivated me!"

"Re...activated?" Clint spoke first.

"Mister Stark deactivated me after he returned from supper last night. Almost directly after Miss Potts had informed him she had to leave on a business trip."

"Why?" Steve asked, realizing after he spoke that the AI had probably planned on explaining everything, anyways.

"I am unsure exactly what occurred while I was not active, but he may have fled the area, most likely 'off the grid,' so to speak," Jarvis explained.

"Why?" Steve asked again, idly wondering if he was going to get into a habit of asking the same question to the AI twice.

"If you will give me a moment, I can retrieve the e-mail that seems to have unhinged Mister Stark."

The four exchanged glances again, even more anxious than their previous glances had been.

_This ain't good, _though Clint, _Unhinged?_

_If it unhinged Tony, how will I react? _Bruce asked himself, not really wanting an answer. _Even the smell of moonshine and grape Kool-Aid was preferable to the fear I smell right now._

Steve looked over what was left of 'his' team, schooling his expression into confident leadership. Thor frowned, both at the situation that could not mean any good and at the weight Steve was trying to shoulder before the man could even balance himself.

"Would you like for me to read the message aloud?" Jarvis broke the silence.

Steve glanced around again before answering, "Just summarize it, please."

"It is an electronic letter demanding the identities of the Avengers. If he were to comply, the names would be run as free-to-use material. However, if he refuses to comply, the author of the letter has threatened to blackmail several key companies from partnership with Stark Industries."

Once again, the four stared at each other in silence. Steve found himself briefly missing the comfortable silence while waiting for the elevator.

"Why would that set Tony off?" Clint offered. The other three looked confused, so he continued, "When has Tony ever NEEDED anyone else? And when have threats ever bothered him?"

"If I may interject, sir, Mister Stark needs his fellow Avengers," Jarvis stated, "and in his drunken state, I do not believe his rationale would have been at its best."

Steve had expected silence again while that sentiment set in. Need. Tony needed them.

"Bruce?" Thor's voice cut into Steve's thoughts, "Bruce, are you alright?"

Thor's question was met with ragged breathing and a sight they had become uncomfortably familiar with on the hellicarrier.

"Jarvis, alert S.H.I.E.L.D.. NOW!" Clint shouted.

* * *

Chaos had not erupted in full. Bruce had not "Hulked out" as Clint had called it, but he had been taken into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody for observation.

Steve had tried to talk him out of going in, but Bruce had insisted. "For everyone's safety," he had explained, "I don't want everyone dealing with a missing team member while another destroys the last sanctuary we have."

Clint, Steve, and Thor returned to the lab after Bruce left. Their shared anxiety was slowly being replaced by a sort of tension they could not pin with words, but could feel as much as anything else they had felt that morning.

Jarvis attempted to apologize, but Clint assured him it wasn't his fault.

_What have things come to when flesh-and-blood needs to assure a very fancy computer program?_ Clint wondered.

"Is there anything else we should know? To try to find Tony," Clint asked Jarvis.

"He made a cash withdraw of twenty-three thousand, five hundred and eighteen dollars and ninety-six cents at five-seventeen this morning."

"Cash?" Clint asked at the same time Steve exclaimed, "This morning!?"

"Affirmative to both," Jarvis confirmed.

'Well, there goes a paper trail," Steve sighed, dejected.

"Jarvis, did he take any of the cars?" Clint asked.

"Negitive, sir."

"Jarvis," Thor spoke up, causing the two men to jump slightly, "Can you get into the city's security footage and see if Anthony was caught on any of them?"

"Excellent suggestion, sir. Please give me a moment while I attempt as such."

Tony had last been spotted at Newark International Airport, boarding a plane headed for Atlanta. He had paid entirely in cash, and from what could be gleaned, everything in his carry-on had been purchased since he'd fled.

Tony had not been seen exiting the plane.

"He had to have changed his appearance while he was on the flight," Clint offered.

"Most likely," Thor agreed.

"Someone has to search for him," Steve said, "And we can't send anybody from S.H.I.E.L.D.. Not after Phil."

Clint grimaced, and then spoke up, "I'm going to go find him."

"Clint..." Steve started, but Clint stood taller and straighter.

"I'm going. It's my fault, anyways." The words had slipped out before he could stop them. He didn't want to retract them, exactly. Soften them, maybe. But it was his inability to mind tact that had gotten him into this mess, he felt.

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Thor placed a hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve's expression softened a bit.

"Let's go get your bags together and figure out how we're going to do this," Steve nodded, leading the way out of the lab.

* * *

Clint had packed two carry-on bags. He had agreed to inform Fury of his search after his plane landed in Georgia. They had called a taxi to take him to the airport from a Starbucks a few blocks away. They had been finishing up their coffees when the taxi pulled up.

Clint shook both of their hands and got into the cab.

"Good luck," Steve had said to him as the door shut.

* * *

On the walk back to the tower, Steve had asked to take a longer route. Thor agreed, sensing Steve's reluctance to return to the tower.

They passed several memorial shrines on their route.

"None of these were mine," Thor said, indicating the shelters over all of the shrines they passed. Steve simply nodded.

* * *

Silence remained their companion as they entered the tower and took the elevator up.

"Shall we find a movie to take our mind off things?" Thor asked at the elevator doors shut.

Steve looked at Thor, blinked a bit longer than a standard blink, and snapped a little.

"How can you say something like that? After everything of the last few days – first Natasha, then Tony, then Bruce, now Clint? After we're the only ones not doing anything? We're supposed to just be idle and watch movies and shut out the rest of the world?" Steve hadn't realized he was yelling until he stopped and saw the hurt in Thor's eyes. Thor blinked, and the hurt was gone, replaced by something Steve couldn't puzzle out.

"Steven, I..." Thor paused, searching for the words he wanted. Before he found the words, though, Steve collapsed into Thor. "Steven?"

Thor felt Steve's shoulders shake. It took the demigod a moment to realize the man was crying. He spun around slowly, pressing the elevator button that would take them to the living room. As the elevator jolted to life, Thor placed his arms around his teammate, attempting to remember what he could of Asgardian methods of comfort.

* * *

When the elevator doors opened, Thor lead Steve to the couch so they could both sit down. He couldn't tell if Steve was aware of where they were going, but the man didn't complain.

Thor sat them both down on the couch. Steve was still crying. Not as badly as in the elevator, but Thor could tell.

"I'm sorry," Steve said finally, seeming to just realize Thor was...holding him? _What am I doing?_

"There is no cause for apologies, Steven," Thor attempted a smile. _I have never seen him appear so vulnerable. _

"You didn't deserve that," Steve's frown deepened. He needed to feel he was wrong, Thor could tell.

"Perhaps not, but I know more than I had ever cared to learn about what it means to unleash one's temper on those one cares about most," Thor explained.

"Oh my god, Thor, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..." Steve stammered. Thor filled in the unsaid words as best he could.

"I was not speaking of Loki. I was speaking of myself."

Silence crept in again, less threatening this time. Steve mentally noted that Thor had not let go of him.

Taking a deep breathe, the super soldier allowed himself to get comfortable against the demigod. The man swore he could feel the deity smile as he settled in.

"Jarvis, pick an appropriate movie," Steve called out.

"Of course, sir!" Jarvis chirped. Thor mused he could hear relief and hope in the AI's voice.

"Thank you, Steven," Thor whispered.

"Thank you, Thor," Steve replied. _I'm too tired to fight right now. He's right. We need the break._

* * *

Jarvis had picked _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang._

Steve hadn't moved from under Thor's arm. Neither of them seemed to mind.

As the movie played, Steve fell asleep. Thor bit back a laugh for fear of waking the man.

"Take care of yourself, Steven," Thor whispered to the sleeping man, "The Avengers need you." _And for this moment of what may be weakness, I'll allow myself to admit that I need you._

* * *

A/N: Well? WELL? :p

No, seriously. Feedback is quite welcome. I'm getting nervous about this one. D:


	7. Dog-Eared Pages

A/N: Um. Wow. I have no idea how the last few months slipped away from me. I am so sorry y'all! *cowers*

Hours had turned into days, and the days had turned into a week. Then nearly two weeks. Thor could tell Steve was getting increasingly anxious.

Steve busied himself with settling the e-mail that was assumed to be the cause of Tony's disappearance. He had explained to Director Fury – with as little detail as possible – where they lost Tony, that Clint had gone after Tony, and that who ever sent the e-mail was a security threat.

"Well no shit it's a security threat," Fury had replied, at the start of losing his temper.

"With all respect, sir, anger will solve nothing," Thor had spoken only once during that meeting, having previously agreed that Steve would do the talking.

At the end, Fury had a team of his own working on finding whoever sent the e-mail. Three days later, they returned with their results: a former Stark Industries employee who was still disgruntled over the termination of his job was out to ruin his former employee's life.

There had been an immediate trial, and the man had attempted to plead insanity. When that failed, he was found guilty.

Steve didn't listen to the charges or the sentence, and Thor had decided finding out for himself risked upsetting Steve.

"What good does knowing do if we don't know where Tony is?" Steve had explained.

On day twelve since Clint's departure, Thor had gone from simply worrying about Steve as if it was something on the back burner to actively worrying about Steve.

They had just finished lunch and clean-up when Thor decided enough silent concern was enough.

"Steven, you concern me," he said, breaking the silence that had all but consumed the room. He realized that his choice of words was, in all likelihood, not the greatest, but he decided to press on.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, a large part of him knowing exactly why, but the rest of him still unwilling to bring it to the surface.

"Ever since it has just been us here in the tower, you have been...in need of more of an outlet than you have been allowing yourself," Thor explained, attempting to pick his words carefully without losing time or meaning.

"Don't we all," Steve grimaced, turning away.

Thor watched Steve walk towards the elevator in silence. As Steve disappeared from sight, all Thor said was, "Perhaps."

When the phone rang at two in the morning, Steve bolted awake. The first feeling he registered was surprise. Panic followed closely on its heels, however.

_That's my personal phone!_ Steve picked the lone thought over a jumble of others.

"Hello?" he managed after hitting the 'accept' button.

"Steve?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Clint!" Steve shouted. He knew he should be saying more, but words were failing him.

"I found Tony."

"Where?" was the first word out of Steve's mouth, "Is he alright?"

"He's in a civilian hospital, Steve." Clint's voice was harried. He waited for Steve to say something. After several seconds of silence, Clint continued, "We're in California. He pretty much wrapped a rental car around a tree. Apparently drunk. He was registered as John Doe. I called Pepper first, and she's going to be on the next flight out to give the doctors a positive identification, and then transfer him back to New York."

"Is he…?" Steve couldn't finish with _going to be okay._

"He has some damage, but nothing lasting from what I can tell. The people at the hospital didn't tell me much because I wasn't family. But, uhm, I did some of my own digging and it seems he had some sort of break-down about a week ago. He's been in the hospital for three days. He's responsive but quiet."

"Tony? Quiet?" Steve had to stop himself from laughing.

"Yeah. I think that's what I'm the most worried about," Clint said, shaking his head.

"I. Clint. Well. Go take care of whatever it is you need to and come back soon," Steve managed.

"Thanks, Steve." Clint's words were followed by the sound of the line being disconnected.

Steve sat in the darkness with his phone in his hands for what felt like a piece of the eternity men spent their lives searching for. Between the early hour and Clint's words, he could feel himself struggling to grasp onto the real world.

_I'm going to go tell Thor,_ he told himself.

He walked out of his room barefoot and didn't even notice.

"So he is alive, then," Thor said after Steve finished telling him the news.

"It would seem so," Steve replied, not even looking at Thor.

Thor guided Steve towards a chair in the corner of his room. Steve sat down almost on instinct. Thor knelt down in front of the supersoldier, keeping his eyes on him as he did so. He could tell Steve was in mild shock.

"There is something you are not saying," Thor said after he settled. _Or at the least not telling me._

Steve locked eyes with Thor for a moment or few, a heavy sigh breaking the lock.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have much of a reputation for finding heroes, do they?" Steve asked, a sad smile invading his otherwise blank face.

It took Thor a moment to recall how long Steve had been under the ice, but he replied, "I suppose not."

Silence became the primary mode of conversation for several moments before threatening to take over the room. Thor took note of the tension in Steve's jaw and shoulders. If Thor had to be honest with himself, it had become more defined since the night on the couch.

"I don't know where to go from here," Steve finally spoke. His tone was strained, as if the words did not want to become free from his mind.

Thor looked at Steve again, this time with a little more caution. The surpersoldier had just shown what he believed to be weakness, Thor knew. He knew humans required care and gentleness when it came to what they believed to be weakness. This kind of weakness was new to him, though.

"Perhaps that is best for now," Thor suggested. Steve looked at him curiously, but said nothing. Thor continued, "We at least know where we are now, and where Tony is. Which is more than we have had for nearly two weeks. And until everyone gets back, all we have is knowledge."

Steve seemed to be milling Thor's words over in his mind. Thor remained silent, unsure if more words would help or hurt.

"You're right, Thor," Steve sighed, "I just wish there was more, I guess."

"Don't we all?" Thor mirrored Steve's words from the previous evening. Steve laughed a little, his eyes becoming visibly brighter.

"Thank you," Steve said as he stood up. Thor stood up as well, waiting to see what Steve would do.

"It's no thought," Thor replied. Steve restrained himself from showing confusion over Thor's choice of words, deciding it was a sort-of 'thank you.'

"So now we wait?" Steve's statement had the inflection of a question to it.

"Now we wait," Thor repeated as a statement. _And perhaps get you to let go of some of the weight you've been carrying._

A/N: So. Uh. Don't hate me.

I'm going to attempt to get more chapters up with more regularity. Life's been crazy, but I know that's little excuse to not write.


	8. Restoration

A/N: I. Um. Sorry. I have no excuses why this took me so long.

* * *

Tony had been back in the Tower for five days, but Steve could count the number of times he had seen the man on one hand and still have enough fingers left over to hold a pair of chopsticks.

When he relayed this to Clint, all the archer had said was, "Who holds chopsticks with their pinky out?"

They had shared a laugh, but not much else.

Natasha had come back the day before. It was Steve who told her what had happened to Tony. She was initially furious with Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. for not informing her what had happened.

"_Top-Secret mission or not, they relayed plenty of information to me! Did they not think this was important?"_

Ultimately, though, she concluded that the Avengers were only Fury's priority, and it would not be the first time he had slighted Tony.

"_Slighted Tony?" Steve had asked._

"_He may pretend he doesn't care, but he is not fooling the rest of us," was all the explanation she had given before disappearing to her room._

Steve had not seen much of Thor since Tony's return, either. Bruce had not made a reappearance, and Steve figured no one had told him, either.

Tony's accident had been bad publicity both for the Avengers and for his company. He supposed whoever was in charge of things – who ever was pulling the strings without telling them – did not want to risk Bruce having an "incident."

That alone perturbed him. Bruce was a friend and a colleague, not a threat to keep in the shadows while the truth milled about just out of his reach.

But more than that, Steve was angry with the fact the media had been referring to it as an "accident." He knew it wasn't. The darkness in Clint's eyes when he'd brought it up told him Clint knew otherwise. He had not yet brought it up to Thor or Natasha, but he did not expect their reactions to be any different.

"_An accident?" Steve had nearly choked on his coffee the first time he heard the newscaster refer to it as such._

"_What was she supposed to call it?" Clint had asked, not looking up from the counter he was cleaning. Clint had been cleaning everything since he returned from California. Whether is was therapeutic or avoidance, Steve couldn't tell._

"_Something less pretty," Steve muttered, regretting his words the instant they came out._

"_Be careful what you wish for, Steve," Clint turned around, the dark stare threatening nothing in particular._

"_Yeah, I will, thanks," was all Steve could manage. The words seemed bitter, but his tone took the edge off and turned them into defeated words with actual thanks hiding in them._

They kept the news on in the Tower all the time now. There were no more movie nights, no more group meals. It seemed that the team feel they had so precariously settled among them had left somewhere in the chaos. No warning, no proverbial note. No literal note, either, in the case of Tony.

Steve couldn't understand why the man broke like he did. Tony had always been the one to have an action plan, even it was more action and less actual plan. He had always been ready to prove himself right; ready to be the one on top once the dust settled.

But now? Now Tony was healing from a major car accident in a place where even he was not recognized.

Pepper had fought to bring him home. They weren't married, and the hospital staff had trouble believing it was indeed Tony Stark they had been caring for. But money talked loudly, and Pepper had brought him home that day.

The waiting was the worst part, Steve told himself. Waiting for news regarding Tony. Waiting to hear from Bruce. Waiting for Clint or Natasha to stop brooding over the entire situation for their own reasons. Waiting for Thor to come back around, where ever he was going.

It wasn't until that evening when Steve felt something change.

* * *

Clint and Natasha had been eating dinner together in the living room. It smelled like Chinese take-out.

Steve was passing through the living room to get dinner for himself when the smell hit him.

"Steve, come join us!" Clint called, waving him down.

It took Steve half a step longer to stop than it would have barely three weeks before.

"You sure?" Steve asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"There's more than enough for three," Clint assured him. Steve changed his path and walked over to the two of them.

"Thank you," Steve grinned, the muscles on his face glad for a reprieve from all the tense frowning he had been doing.

The television set was on in the background, the volume high enough to be heard but low enough to intrude on any conversation that might be going on.

Steve helped himself to some rice and sweet and sour pork and grabbed a can of Coke before sitting down on the couch next to the other two.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, half paying attention to the news.

"It's nice to eat together again," Natasha finally said.

"That it is," Steve agreed. Clint nodded, his mouth full, but Steve swore the other man was smiling a little.

Silence settled back over the room again, but it was a comfortable silence this time.

"Guys, the news!" Natasha broke the silence again. "JARVIS, please turn the television up!"

"Of course, miss," the AI obliged.

"We are here tonight with Pepper Potts of Stark Industries…" the reporter began. The three on the couch in the tower had put down their plates and soda cans to lean in closer, as if doing so would prove they were not imagining things.

"The building Tony suggested!" Steve marveled. It seemed like a different world when Tony had promised to donated the disused building for the memorials to those lost in the attacks Loki had brought down upon the city.

"Tony Stark donated a building several days ago to the city of New York as an indoor memorial to those lost in the alien attacks on the city. Although Mister Stark could not be with us tonight, Miss Potts has stepped in his place for the opening night," the reporter continued.

"Is that Thor?" Clint asked out loud, the path of his eyes indicating a blond man in a plain, faded blue t-shirt and fairly beat-up Levi's.

"Well, I'll be darned," Steve shook his head. _'Well, that explains where Thor has been.'_

Words, pictures, and emotions blurred for Steve as the reported followed Pepper and 'Thomas' around the building. The people who Thor had helped while building the memorial shelters were interviewed, and there were numerous panoramic shots of those waiting in line to walk through the building's newly renovated maze-like interior, and perhaps add a memorial of their own.

'_Maybe things will be alright,' _Steve thought to himself as he resumed eating his dinner.

* * *

A/N: Well, that was a bit shorter than usual. I hope y'all liked it, anyways~


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